I Can Help You Save Him
by Pandalandalopalis
Summary: The Deadpool is over, but Lydia's beginning to have nightmares. She knows something worse is coming, and she's afraid that she won't be able to save the only boy who ever mattered. Stiles. (Stydia. Takes place after 4x10)
1. Worse Things

The Deadpool was over. It was finally gone, done for good. Nobody would be coming after any supernatural creature in Beacon Hills any longer. At least, no one looking for payment. However, Scott –being the careful and capable alpha he is- was still worried. What if some of the assassins didn't get the message? What if they were all still being hunted? Stiles told him he was being ridiculous. Kira told him everyone would be just fine. But Lydia agreed with him. Something wasn't right, she could feel it. Not everything was back to normal again. The banshee inside of her was telling her that they were all still in danger. Of course, this part she didn't mention.

"We should be cautious," Lydia said, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in her stomach. "Maybe, just to be safe, we all spend a night at the lake house. I'm sure twenty-four hours is enough time for everyone to be notified that the Deadpool is over."

Scott thought about this for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. Tonight we'll stay at the lake house."

"All of us?" Liam asked. Scott looked at his beta, his eyes narrowing slightly at the question. But he could smell the fear that was coming off the younger werewolf, and the way he would look over Scott's shoulder every once in a while. Almost like there was something behind him.

He put his hand on Liam's shoulder. "Yeah, all of us. You, me, Kira, Lydia, Stiles, and Malia. We can all sleep in the living room, right?" Scott's gaze shifted to Lydia.

"Well, there won't be enough room for _everyone_, but mostly, I suppose." She sighed slightly. "I'll just sleep in my own bed."

* * *

Scott's pack snored softly in the comfort of Lydia's lake house. Scott and Kira were snuggled together on the couch, his arms wrapped around her protectively. Liam slept on the floor next to his alpha, his fear of the berserkers not letting him sleep anywhere else. Stiles was set ungracefully in the armchair, drool dripping from his mouth. Malia was only half asleep, her coyote instincts leaving her on high alert at all times. But while they slept, Lydia was upstairs in her room, dreaming.

_"__Stiles, look at me." Lydia held Stiles's face in her hands, making soothing sounds with her mouth. "Shh, look at me." Information circled her mind. _Think, Lydia, think! What can stop a panic attack? _She tried to remember everything she had every read, and one thing stuck in her mind. It was a small bit of information, something she didn't even remember where she had got it from. She didn't even know if it would work. But she knew she had to try something._

_It only took a moment for Lydia to close her eyes and pull Stiles's lips to hers. She felt his whole body tense up. He was holding his breath. He started relaxing, and it was working. _Once again, I'm a genius, _Lydia thought. But she couldn't doddle on self-praise for long, because she was suddenly becoming hyper aware that she was kissing Stiles. The way his lips felt, the way _she_ felt, and the way that the more time she spent kissing him, the more she could feel a barrier melting away. And she could hear his voice, clear as day, speaking in her head._

_ "__You know, sometimes there's other things you wouldn't think would be a good combination end up turning out to be, like, a perfect combination, you know, like two people together who nobody ever thought would be together ever."_

_But as soon as the kiss –panic attack solution, whatever you call it- started, it ended. Her lips were separating from his, although her eyes were still closed, and she felt as though she never wanted to open them again. And boy, did she wish she didn't._

_Because as soon as her eyes were open, she was no longer in the locker room. Instead she was standing in a dark tunnel, with the boy standing in front of her, giving her a look that sent chills down her spine._

_ "__Stiles?"_

_And then Stiles's hand was around her throat and he was lifting her so only her toes could touch the ground. Lydia tried to breathe, but there were tears running down her face and she couldn't, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't move._

_ "__Stiles isn't here anymore," he said in a painfully steady voice. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed and his hair was messy like he hadn't brushed it in days. Lydia's hands finally started to pull on his, her lungs begging for air. The Nogitsune shook his head and tsked her, like she was a pet that was doing something wrong._

_Then his face turned to agony, and he dropped Lydia. The sting of landing on the ground was nothing compared to the relief when she saw the thing that had pierced the Nogitsune's back. A silver arrow._

_Allison stood triumphantly, bow in her hands as the Nogitsune fell to the ground next to Lydia. She smiled at her friend, but the banshee soon remembered what happens next. A sword went through Allison's body before Lydia could warn her about the Oni. Anguish filled her face and she screamed._

_ "__ALLISON!"_

_She could feel her own body collapsing into the boy next to her, the boy that was somehow Stiles again, the boy that she could feel trying to comfort her even in his dying state. Lydia squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted it to end, she wanted it to stop, to stop reliving the memories, to stop making new and scarier memories based on old ones. And a small part of her was even trying to tell her to wake up. But that part of her wasn't loud enough._

_When Lydia opened her eyes again, she was laying in Derek's loft. She could feel a warm liquid running down some part of her body and she knew she was bleeding. She desperately searched the place with her eyes for some kind of explanation, but what was there wasn't good._

_Kira was against the wall, her throat slashed out. Lydia didn't want to believe it, but she knew she was dead. Derek was on the other side of the room, seemingly unhurt, but the dead body of Braeden by his side told her otherwise. _

_Lydia began to panic. Where was Stiles? Where was Scott? The next thing she saw proved that she didn't want her question answered._

_Stiles was laying on the floor near her, a large gash mark across his body. He was coughing up blood, but he was still alive. The banshee crawled over to him, putting her hands on his chest._

_ "__Stay with me Stiles," she begged._

_ "__Lydia?" His voice was but a whisper, and was interrupted by a spout of blood. Lydia willed herself not to cry._

_ "__It's me, Stiles," she said, "It's okay, I'm here. Shh, Stiles." She put her hands on his face. His eyes were beginning to close. "Stiles, look at me. Stay with me!" And then Lydia heard a voice that sent shivers up her spine._

_ "__You were my beta first, Scott. It was my bite that gave you power, and it'll be my bite that'll take it away."_

_Lydia looked up, but she already knew who it was. Peter Hale. She should've known. She should've known he would go after Scott, to take his alpha status. But before she knew what was happening, Peter was lifting Scott into the air, claws imbedded into his shoulder. And then he ripped his throat out with his teeth._

_Lydia screamed. She screamed so loud that Peter was momentarily disoriented. She knew this was her chance to get her and Stiles out of there._

_ "__Stiles, we have to go." She looked back down at the boy she cared so much about. His eyes were closed. "Stiles! Look at me! Stay with me! Please!" She couldn't hold back the tears any longer as she pressed onto his wound, trying to keep him from losing more blood._

_ "__You can't save him, y'know."_

_Lydia knew the voice, but she didn't look up. "Yes, I can," she said, like trying to convince herself. Stiles's eyes were open again, but she knew they wouldn't be for long._

_ "__Not without help, you can't."_

_Again the voice, so familiar. Lydia put her hand on Stiles's face, trying to get him to look at her. But all she succeeded in doing was leaving a bloody hand mark on his cheek._

_ "__I can help you."_

_Anger consuming her, Lydia looked up at the voice. It was a girl. A girl who was 5'3", and had strawberry blonde hair and green eyes. She looked at Lydia with a blank expression. _

_ "__What can you do, huh?" Lydia asked the girl, her lip trembling. The copy of Lydia tilted her head to the side, giving her a sorry expression._

_ "__More than you, apparently."_

_The real Lydia looked back down at Stiles. His eyes were closed, and his body felt cold. She gripped onto his plaid shirt and pressed her face to his chest. Silent sobs racked her body._

_ "__You can save him," the girl told her._

_ "__How?"_

_The girl kneeled down next to Lydia. "Let me in. Let me in and I'll help you save him. Let me in, Lydia."_

_The banshee refused to look at herself, to look at the copy of her. She kept her eyes trained on Stiles's face, and came to a decision._

_ "__Okay."_

_ "__Good choice." The voice wasn't hers anymore. Lydia whipped around to face herself when it wasn't herself any longer. It was a bandaged figure with a bloody mouth and sharp, metal teeth._

* * *

Lydia screamed herself awake, sitting bolt upright. Downstairs the wolves were covering their ears, trying to block out the high-pitched sound. Stiles and Kira started to race up the stairs, their friend's screaming seeming to get louder the closer they went to her room.

"Lydia!" Stiles yelled, barging into the room and quickly making her way to her side. She had stopped screaming by then, and instead she was trembling violently. Stiles put his hand on her arm. "Lydia?"

Lydia's face snapped up to look at him, and he could see the terror in her eyes. Tears poured down her cheeks and her hand grasped his sleeve like it was a lifeline. Scott, Malia, and Liam had finally entered the room. Liam, the youngest werewolf, had a bit of a hard time keeping from running back downstairs and hiding there. The other werewolves could smell it too. The scent of fear.

"It was just a dream, Lydia," Stiles told her softly. "Just a dream, got it?"

Lydia frantically shook her head. "No, no it wasn't, it was him, it was him, he's in my head, he's in my head-"

He moved his hands to grip her shoulders. "Lydia, look at me. You're all right, you're fine." He looked back at the rest of his friends. Scott was giving him an incredibly worried look. "I got this guys, go back to sleep."

Scott held Kira's hand and put his other hand on Liam's shoulder, leading the two of them out. Malia followed.

When her friends were gone, Lydia burst into tears. She pulled Stiles to her chest and hugged him tightly. Stiles tried to do his best to comfort her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked. And Lydia was going to tell him. She was going to tell him everything, and then he was going to tell her that it was just a dream, that she was fine. He was going to stay by her side all night and wake her if she had any more nightmares and hold her if she was scared. But Lydia didn't get a chance to open her mouth, because the bandaged man was standing behind Stiles now, her Stiles that was watching her with those worried eyes, and she couldn't say anything.


	2. Hell In High Heels

Lydia continued to stare wordlessly at the Nogitsune behind Stiles, fearful to speak a single word. The bandaged man was making it more and more clear with each second that if she said anything remotely close to telling Stiles that a nogitsune was behind him, well. . . The knife that was pressed to Stiles's throat was warning enough. Although, it seemed, that everything was still in Lydia's head, because Stiles didn't seem to notice the impending doom at his jugular. But he did notice _her_.

"Lydia?" he repeated softly. He was giving her those eyes again, those worried eyes, those eyes that were only saved for her.

"Yes, do speak, Lydia," the Nogitsune said darkly. "He's starting to believe you've gone crazy again. Though, I suppose you have, haven't you? So, go ahead. Make him believe you're still sane. Speak, Lydia." He had made his way to the other side of the bed, his blackened mouth now close to her face. "SPEAK!"

Lydia visibly flinched. "Peter!" she spit out. She forced herself not to look at the bandaged man beside her, and instead focused her gaze on Stiles. "It was about Peter." Her voice was quieter now. "I-I don't think we should be trusting him."

"Trust him?" Stiles laughed, putting on a smile. "C'mon, I've been saying that for weeks, hell, months! Peter Hale is just about _the_ most dangerous-" He stopped talking when he noticed her expression again.

"He killed _everyone_," she whispered. "I watched him _rip_ Scott's throat out with his _teeth_." She began pulling at her fingers anxiously, and Stiles put his hands on top of hers. She looked at him, her green eyes wide. "You were dying, Stiles. You were dying and I couldn't save you."

Stiles squeezed her hands lightly, kneeling next to her bed. "I'm fine, Lydia. Scott's fine, everyone's fine. I'm _okay_." He took her hand and put it over his heart. "See? Still beating and everything." He smiled at her. That smile that Lydia loved, that smile that always made everything okay. Well, almost always.

Lydia shook her head at him, her bottom lip trembling. "I'm sorry."

Stiles gave her a confused look. "Sorry? About what? For waking everyone up? Because I'm sure they're not mad about that, everyone has nightmares-"

She let out a sob that she had been trying to hold back. "He said he would help me, Stiles. He said he would help me save you."

His eyes narrowed. "Lydia, what are you talking about?"

"I-I thought he was me, I thought, I don't know, I thought maybe it was the banshee part of me. He looked like me and he talked like me and you were dying and I-I- Had I known it was him I _never_ would've- Oh, God, Stiles, what have I done?" She put her face in her hands, tugging at the edges of her strawberry blonde hair.

"Lydia-"

"He told me to let him in and I said yes."

"_Who_, Lydia?" Stiles tried to get her to look at him but she wouldn't. "Who told you he could help you?"

Lydia sobbed into her hands and she pulled at her hair and she prayed to any deity there was that she could stop trembling, but she couldn't, because the bandaged man was _laughing_ now. It was the only noise she could hear, the only noise she could comprehend. And then it was quiet. Lydia stopped crying. Her eyes opened and she removed her hands from her face, now without fear, now without emotion. And she looked at Stiles and sniffed, wiping the tears from her eyes and giving him a smile.

"Oh, Stiles. Who else?"

His eyes grew slightly wide at her cryptic words, beginning to stand up. "Lydia?" he asked in a small voice, hoping the answer would be something along the lines of, _'It's okay. I'm fine, I just need some sleep.' _But, to his horror, she shook her head.

'Lydia' got out of the bed in a fluid motion, pushing Stiles to the ground without much force. She began walking closer to him, tsking him slightly in the process. Stiles recognized the body language, the facial expressions, the way her lips curved up in a malicious smile.

"No," he spoke, trying to make sense of this. "No, we destroyed you." This couldn't be happening.

She tilted her head to the side and pouted at him mockingly. "I'm a thousand years old, Stiles. You can't kill me." The Nogitsune moved to stand in front of the dresser mirror, teasing Lydia's strawberry blonde locks with a bored expression.

"Lydia, Lydia if you can't hear me I need you to fight it okay, fight it!" Stiles said determinedly, standing up, trying to get close to the body of the girl he once loved. Still loved? Maybe.

She rolled her eyes and knocked Stiles back to the ground. "Lydia can't hear you right now. It's not like when I was possessing _you_, Stiles. She doesn't have a front row seat to everything I'm doing. I've got her, well, for lack of a better term, _sedated_. Lydia's in her own little world right now. But don't worry," the Nogitsune gave him a deadly smile, "I'll make sure she's there for the action when I kill all of her friends and family." She went back to absentmindedly playing with Lydia's hair.

"How can you even be here?" Stiles asked, trying to keep his voice level. Although he knew the Nogitsune was probably still underpowered, and he could most likely take her on physically, he stayed sitting on the ground. He remembered what it was like to be possessed. To wake up from a blackout and feel that residual pain left over from the Nogitsune using his body. He didn't want to hurt Lydia. He didn't want her to wake up and be damaged. "We put you in a box made from the _Nemeton_. There's no way you could've gotten out of that."

The Nogitsune gave Stiles a look, a look that reminded him of what Lydia was like at the beginning of tenth grade. That 'are-you-seriously-talking-to-me-right-now' look that all popular girls have mastered. "That wooden cylinder box with the triskelion on the lid? Oh, Stiles, you forget. I'm a fox. A trickster. And before you changed my body and stabbed a katana through my chest, I made sure to pull one last trick. Maybe you should take another look at that box."

Stiles's eyes narrowed, realization consuming him. "You switched it out."

The Nogitsune gave him a sly smirk. "That I did, Stiles. That I did. And poor Lydia, she had just lost her best friend. You were dying. Then the Oni killed that werewolf boy and that was it. Her mind was open. I sat in the back of her mind, growing stronger, listening, waiting for the precise opportunity to take control." She began paying more attention to Lydia's face, moving her hands over her cheeks, her nose, her lips. "You know, you all think that because I possessed a man before, that I _was_ one. But, that's not exactly the case. I was a woman, and I was young and beautiful once. A celestial kitsune. And oh, did I have my fun. And when I found out there was a way to become a better trickster, a darker kitsune, a Nogitsune? Well, I believe you know how that went." She began going through Lydia's draws, picking out clothes at random and tossing them across the room until she could find something she liked.

"What are you doing?"

The Nogitsune turned to profile Stiles. "Obviously I'm planning on leaving, and I'm not doing that in sleepwear." A flirty smile laced her lips. "Pay attention, Stiles, because this will probably be the only time you'll ever get to see Lydia naked." She began changing out of her clothes, and, to his credit, Stiles kept his eyes averted. When he looked up again, the Nogitsune was applying red lipstick to Lydia's lips.

"How are you possessing her?" Stiles wanted to keep a lid on all the questions he was asking, but the detective in him was telling him to get as much information as he could without the dark kitsune leaving him a bloody and broken body. "She's not human, she's a banshee."

The Nogitsune was giving him that look again. "You're thinking backwards, Stiles. If I possess someone human, it makes it easier for you to change my body by turning me into a werewolf. But the world doesn't always work in your favour. I don't always have to possess someone human, in fact, if I really wanted to, I could even possess a werewolf. Fifty years ago –give or take- I was going to possess that kitsune. But possessing the dead, bandaged body of her love? The irony in that was just too good to resist." She started walking over to Stiles, looking down at him with Lydia's green eyes. But there was no part of Lydia left in her expression.

He swallowed steadily. "Are you going to kill me?" The Nogitsune kneeled next to him so their faces were level.

"No. I'm not going to kill you, Stiles. I promised Lydia I would help her save you. Even a dark kitsune has to keep her promises." She made an 'X' mark on the uncovered skin near her heart, her nail drawing blood. Stiles was sure it would scar. "See? You have my word, as an immortal. I'm going to keep you alive, for Lydia, who was generous enough to let me in her mind." The Nogitsune chuckled darkly. "But you're going to wish you were dead. First, I'm going to kill everyone you've every cared about or ever loved. Then, when that's done, I'm going to release Lydia, poor, insane Lydia, that will be nothing but an unresponsive husk of the person she once was when I'm done with her. And then you can slowly slip into insanity with her." She slowly stood back up, keeping her eyes on Stiles, like she was deciding on whether or not to tell him something. "She loves you, you know. She knows that she lost her chance, though, she tells herself every day." The Nogitsune turned to the door, reaching for the handle before Stiles's words stopped her.

"Scott's not going to let you leave."

She faced him again with a condescending smile. "And who's going to tell him I'm here? You?"

Stiles opened his mouth to yell. "SCOtt…" The Nogitsune was kneeling next to him again, her hand closing into a fist in front of his mouth. The more her fist closed, the quieter Stiles's voice became until it was gone. She waved her clenched fist mockingly in his face.

"I'm going to give your voice back when you're calm. Are you calm?"

Stiles scowled at the Nogitsune, giving her the most pure look of absolute hatred he could manage. She shook her head at him, giving him a sad look. She sighed as she stood back up. "I didn't think so." She briefly left the room, coming back with the metallic baseball bat that Stiles had left at the lake house the last time he was here. Eyes wide, he tried to get up, but the Nogitsune held him against the wall with her small frame pressed against him. Stiles stopped moving, and she laughed.

"Isn't that cute?" she sneered. She held up her fist, the one holding his voice. "I'm going to give your voice back now. And then I'm going to knock you out. But don't worry, I'll make sure to use _just_ enough force _not_ to kill you." She opened her fist and covered his mouth. Immediately, Stiles began making a muffled yelling noise. The Nogitsune gripped the bat tighter in her hand, then leaned close to his ear, her voice hardly a whisper. "It makes it better when you _scream_."

Stiles made a small but effective shout before she whacked the metallic baseball bat over his head. And like she promised, no blood was spared at his expense.

* * *

"Lydia?"

The Nogitsune was so close to the front door she could taste the fresh air. She reluctantly turned to the voice that had spoken to her. It was a young, blond werewolf that she had never seen before. She searched Lydia's memories to find that he was Scott's beta, Liam.

"Why are you leaving? Is something happening? I heard noises. . ." His eyes were squinted, almost completely shut, and his face looked tired. She gave him a reassuring smile, and put her finger to her lips.

"Shh…"


	3. Here We Go Again

The next thing Stiles remembered was a pounding in his head. And for a few moments, it was the only thing he could comprehend. His vision was blurry when his eyes opened, and he found it hard to focus. What happened? Where was he? He started taking in his surroundings as his mind became clearer. Was this Lydia's room? What was he doing in _Lydia's_ room? The last thing he remembered. . .

Stiles scrambled to his feet, a shooting pain going through his forehead as he did so. He leaned against the wall, trying to regain his balance and get rid of his shaky vision. But the world was spinning, and the only thing he could understand was that Lydia was gone. The Nogitsune was back and he –or _she_, as Stiles had previously learned- had possessed Lydia. And she was _gone_.

"C'mon, Stiles!" he commanded himself, teeth ground together in a desperate effort to stay on his feet. When the room steadied, the first thing his eyes found was the clock sitting on Lydia's dresser. _5:19 am. _The sun would be up in about an hour. It was going to be morning in about an hour. _Why is that important? _Stiles thought to himself as his mind picked out this little piece of information. It was on the tip of his tongue but his head was still fuzzy. Too many thoughts were bombarding his mind and they were all labelled 'URGENT'. He tried to sort through the information, tried to remember the conversation he had with the Nogitsune only minutes –hours, maybe? He couldn't tell for sure- ago. There was something he had said, something he had threatened the Nogitsune with.

_"__Scott's not going to let you leave."_

That was it! Scott! Stiles opened the door and began racing down the stairs, his every step a clumsy freefall that he hoped landed on the floor instead into open air. But he wasn't so lucky. The tumbling of Stiles falling down the stairs woke the wolves. Malia was the first to come rushing to his side.

"Stiles! Are you okay?" she asked with worried eyes. She hooked her arm around his shoulders and helped him to his feet. Scott and Liam led him to sit down on the couch. The alpha gave his friend a once-over. "He didn't break anything, did he?" Malia asked, her tone now less worried and more 'honesty-Stiles-you-are-the-clumsiest-person-I-know-I'm-surprised-you-aren't-dead-yet'.

Scott chuckled. "No, he's fine." He smiled at his friend, but when Stiles didn't return the gesture, he frowned. "Is Lydia all right? Is she asleep?"

Stiles shook his head, then winced. A headache brewed directly in the middle of his forehead, and Scott began to notice the welt that lied there.

"Stiles . . . what happened?"

Stiles swallowed. Where to begin? 'The Nogitsune is back,' just didn't seem to cut it. This was the demon that killed Allison and Aidan, tortured Lydia and, well, himself, and did countless other horrible things that were unspeakable. Where to begin? How do you tell your best friend that the evil that he had seemingly destroyed was back? That this time the evil was possessing a different friend of yours, and this time you might not be able to save her? Where to begin? The age-old question. _Where to begin?_

"Oh, Lydia's gone," Liam interjected. "She left last night, an hour ago maybe? I don't know, I was half-asleep."

_Looks like we're starting there. _"Lydia's gone?" Scott repeated, looking to Stiles for answers. "Did she say anything to you about where she was going? Does this have to do with the Deadpool? Is it a banshee thing?"

Stiles shook his head. He wanted to scream. He wanted to be like Lydia, to be able to scream and his head would be clear. But his head was just pounding and hurting and beating the inside of his skull so it was hard to think. "No. Scott, listen, I don't know how to tell you this, to tell _any_ of you this, but. . ." And then he proceeded to tell them everything. That Lydia had a nightmare about Peter. That she watched everyone die and someone told her that they could help her save them. That the next thing he knew, Lydia wasn't Lydia anymore, she was the Nogitsune, she had tricked them, and she had possessed one of their best friends. Again.

Scott and Malia sat in a sort of stunned silence, different emotions flashing across their faces as they took in the information. Stiles didn't even know if they believed him, but, sooner or later, they would have to, because this was their reality now.

"What's a . . . Nogasuneh?" Liam asked after a moment.

"Nogitsune," Stiles corrected.

"Liam, do you remember when you asked how all of us were still alive?" Scott said, and his beta nodded. "Remember how I said not all of us are?" He sighed. "The Nogitsune is the reason why."

"He's basically a demon, er, _she's_ basically a demon," Malia commented. "I'm still confused about that."

"Well, she started as a woman who was a kitsune," Stiles began, "then she turned into a dark kitsune, then she possessed a man, then she possessed _me, _and then she possessed Lydia making her a girl again. Although, of course, I guess that would make her a woman the _entire time_-"

Scott gave his friend a look to silence him, to tell him _'now is not the time'._ "Where would she go?" he asked. "Stiles, is there _anything_ that you can tell us that would give us even the _slightest_ hint about where the Nogitsune took Lydia?"

There was that feeling again. That nagging feeling in the back of his mind, on the tip of his tongue, just outside of his reach. Something was off. There was something that was right in front of him, he just didn't know what it was. Stiles ran his hands through his hair, gripping the ends. "There's something. . . I _know_ there's something. Why can't I see it?! Something there, something obvious, something I'm missing-" His eyes trailed all over the room, landing on the clock again. _5:31 am. _Almost morning. His eyes searched everything, landing on Scott, landing on Liam, landing on Malia-

And there it was. A little _click_ went off in his mind, like puzzle pieces fitting together. He found it. The thing he had been missing. The small, tiny detail in the room that was missing.

"Scott," Stiles murmured, "Where's Kira?"

The alpha's eyes narrowed when his friend mentioned his girlfriend. "She had to leave really early so her parents didn't notice she was gone. Why?"

Stiles started moving his hands, like he was trying to get Scott to see what he was trying to say. "Scott, it's almost morning."

"Yeah, so?"

His movements became more ecstatic. His thinking process made sense to him, but for some reason he couldn't make it into words. "Kira – almost morning – electricity-"

"Wait." Malia eyes lit up. "Kira's an electric kitsune, right? And nighttime is when people use electricity the most. . ." She hoped she was going somewhere, because honestly, she wasn't sure. So it was a good thing Scott was.

"The electrical plant!" he said. "When the Nogitsune was possessing you, Stiles, she had Kira kidnapped and used her powers to super-charge herself."

Stiles nodded. That was the thing he was trying to remember before. "Do you think . . . do you think that's where the Nogitsune is taking Lydia now?"

"First to Kira's house, then to the electrical plant," Scott said, with a definitive tone in his voice. Stiles sighed.

"Here we go again."

* * *

Kira was almost asleep when there was a rapping at her window. Her eyes, tired and heavy, opened and she pulled the covers off of herself. She longed to return to the comfort of her bed as she got up and went to the window.

"Lydia?" she whispered, pushing up the window. "What are you doing here?" She opened it enough to let her friend in.

"I need your help," Lydia said, giving Kira a faint smile. "It's really important, but you can't ask why. And you _can't_ tell Scott."

"But-"

Lydia put up her hand. "Kira, it's of the _upmost_ importance that nobody knows about this. I'm afraid. . ." She took a deep breath, like she was holding back tears. "I'm afraid someone's going to get hurt."

"Okay, Lydia." Kira put her hand on her shoulder and gave her a faint smile. "I'll help you. What do we have to do?"

Lydia turned to the window, crawling out of it and peeking her head back in. "I drove here, and, well, I'm kind of hoping my banshee instincts will lead us where we need to go."

"Okay." Kira nodded and climbed out the window after her. Then she closed it silently, hoping they didn't make enough noise to wake her parents. She followed Lydia a little ways up the street, to the blue car that her friend got into. Kira stopped, confused for a moment. It wasn't just a car, it was a Jeep. And not just any Jeep. _Stiles's _Jeep. She got into the passenger's seat next to Lydia.

"Why are we in Stiles's Jeep?" she asked.

Lydia shrugged, like she wasn't sure herself. "…Banshee instinct?"

It only took a few minutes for Lydia's 'banshee instincts' to take them somewhere. It was a huge building, one with a fence around it and 'KEEP OUT' signs all over. For some reason, the building looked familiar to Kira. But she just couldn't place it. They both got out of the car and went over to the lock in the middle of the gate. Lydia started fiddling with it, and it wasn't long before the lock was opened and they pushed the gates of the fence to get inside.

"How did you unlock that?" Kira asked.

"What? Oh." Lydia thought for a second. "Stiles showed me how."

If Kira noticed the delay in her speech pattern, she didn't mention it. Lydia led her friend inside and they walked around the pitch black hallways until they found a power switch. As soon as the lights were on, red lights started to go off in Kira's mind.

"I-I know this place," she said.

"It's the electrical plant," Lydia replied, with an almost equally stunned expression. She looked over Kira's shoulder, at the chain-link wall behind her. She walked over to it, running her hand along it. "This is what you were hand-cuffed to . . . right?"

Kira nodded with a mildly pained expression. The memories of being kidnapped and taken to this place where a mad man tried to kill her weren't exactly good ones. While immersed in her own thoughts, she hadn't realized that Lydia was gone.

"Lydia?" she whispered. "Lydia?" Her voice got a little louder, and more worried. The last time they were here. . .

"It's okay!" Lydia came running toward Kira, a metal baseball in her hand. "I just forgot this."

"What do you need _that_ for?" Kira asked.

Lydia hit the baseball bat lightly into the palm of her hands a few times. "Oh, just in case. . ."

The tone of her voice set shivers up Kira's spine, though she wasn't sure why. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. She could feel the air change. Something was wrong. "In case of what exactly?" Her friend was silent. "Lydia? What are we doing here?"

The next thing she knew, Lydia was swinging the metal baseball bat at her head.

* * *

"Wake-y, wake-y, my special electric kitsune."

Kira strained to open her eyes, a pounding in her head. Was this what a concussion felt like? "Lydia?" she murmured. "What are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" she repeated, and laughed. She actually laughed. And while this was happening, Kira noticed the wire in her hand, and the sparks flying from it. "Oh, my dear, what do you _think_ I'm doing?"

And then Kira put the pieces together. "Oh, my God, you're- No, you _can't_ be! We- we destroyed you! I stabbed a katana through your chest!"

"Yes, and that's something I'm not going to forget." Lydia grabbed the top of Kira's hair and pulled, receiving a cry from the kitsune. She smiled deviously. "Maybe if you became a dark kitsune, like me, you wouldn't be this weak."

"…How?" Kira repeated.

"I thought a fellow fox would be smarter," the Nogitsune said. "I'm a _trickster_. Obviously I pulled one last trick before your little _pack_ did. My own divine move. The box made out of wood from the Nemeton? You should've double-checked before you trapped me inside of it. If you get a chance to look at it after this-" she sparked the wire against the chain-link fence with a smile, "-assuming you survive, that is, you'll find that the box is no more than harmless oak."

Kira struggled against the bonds that had her tied to the fence. She could tell they were made of metal, and from the way they cut into her wrists she knew they were handcuffs. Probably the handcuffs that Stiles kept in the backseat of his Jeep for emergencies. It must have seemed like a good idea at the time.

"You don't have to do this," she tried to reason with the Nogitsune. "You can stop, now, before you begin."

"I _could_," the Nogitsune started, "But then I would be _lying_." She crouched down to Kira's level, the wire still in her hand and dangerously close to Kira's face. "Nogitsunes _need _to keep feeding, on pain, on strife and chaos. The simple fact is that I'm insatiable. And do you know what I _need_ to be able to cause that pain and strife and chaos to feed upon?" She stood up. "Power." The wire sparked again and her smile grew. "And the voice in my head to go away. Because once I get my power back, Lydia goes bye-bye." The Nogitsune gave Kira a mock wave. "She'll be trapped in her own world– forever."

She began to bring the wire closer and closer to Kira, who began screaming for help, for _anyone_ who could hear her. Stiles and Scott were just minutes away. But they weren't close enough.

"Here we go again."

And all the power in Beacon Hills went out all at once.


	4. Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

When Lydia opened her eyes, she was staring into the beautiful hazel eyes of the boy she cared so much for. The way he was looking at her. . . It twisted her stomach up into knots in the most wonderful way. Her eyes were wide and her lips were still slightly pursed and he looked confused, but in that moment everything was all right. And in that moment it was like the sun came out.

Stiles breathed out slowly and shakily. "H-how'd you do that?" he whispered gently. To Lydia's relief his breathing had slowed, and she tried to pay attention to what he was saying but all she could do was study his face with her bright green eyes.

"I, uh, I read once that . . ." she started, "holding your breath could stop a panic attack." She paused before saying the next words. "So, when I kissed you. . ." she paused again, "you held your breath."

Stiles's eyes never left Lydia's. "I did?"

"Yeah," she answered, listening to the sweet sound of his steady breathing, "you did."

He nodded softly, a sort of pout overshadowing his mouth. "Thanks." His smile was small, almost unrecognizable, but the way he looked at her. . . "That was really smart."

Lydia made a noise of disbelief before almost biting her lip, her hands in light fists as she put them down on her thighs. She ran them up the length and put them down on the ground, changing her position so she could sit more on her side. Stiles copied her movements, and the way they both shifted brought them closer together. "I just. . . I don't know. I just read it somewhere," she repeated, not knowing what else to say. She hit her leg with her hand again, not knowing what else to do. She felt like she didn't know what she should be doing with her hands, where they should go. Or her lips, should she be biting them or leaving them alone? And don't get her started on her eyes. Where to look? At Stiles? At the ground? Her palms felt sweaty, and her heart felt like it was in her throat. Just his presence beside her all of the sudden made her feel nervous. And there was something else. . .

Lydia never felt this way with Jackson. Things were very hot and heavy, push and shove, 'bop-to-the-top-or-I'll-dump-you-in-the-garbage' kind of thing. She was the best of the best, the most popular girl in school, and a natural-born leader. Jackson was the most popular boy in school, the captain of the lacrosse team, and had just the right jerk personality to push people around with. They were the perfect pair.

_ "__Lydia, I've had a crush on you since the third grade, and I know that somewhere inside that cold, lifeless exterior there's an actual human soul. And I'm also pretty sure that I'm the only one who knows how smart you really are. And that once you're done pretending being a nitwit, you'll eventually go off and write some insane mathematical theorem that wins you the Nobel Prize."_

Lydia would never talk about her intelligence with Jackson, and he never noticed it. Smart, nerdy girls weren't popular, they were small and insignificant. At least to Jackson Whittemore. He didn't have time for a girl with a 4.0 in Biology. So she hid it. _"A cougar _is_ a mountain lion. Isn't it?" _A few slip-ups but she always caught herself.

And then Jackson left. But Stiles was there, helping her embrace what she was, helping her figure out that she was _'something'_. Around him she never hid her genius, she ran her mouth with complicated words he didn't understand and she knew he didn't mind. Because he knew that she was smarter than him and maybe it annoyed him sometimes but he _didn't mind_. And it was her intelligence that just stopped his panic attack. The grateful looks he was giving her, it made her heart swell.

The quiet between them was lasting too long, and Lydia knew that they would soon cross the line between nice and sweet, and just plain awkward. She got to her feet, and stood up. Stiles's eyes followed her every move.

"I should . . . get to class," she told him. He nodded, giving her that smile once more. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she left the locker room, feeling like she was walking on air.

"Well someone's in a good mood today."

Lydia turned to her side to see her best friend, Allison Argent. The brunette smiled at her, walking with her down the hallway. This was good; the one person who she wanted to talk to most was here. She could tell her friend anything and everything. That's what best friend were for, right? She grabbed Allison's arm and pulled her into an empty classroom, closing the door behind them.

"Whoa, what's up?" she asked her strawberry-blonde friend. Lydia wrung her hands together, pacing in front of the board while Allison leaned against one of the desks.

"I kissed Stiles," she began. Her friend's eyes widened slightly, and she rambled on before the brunette could say anything. After all, it was innocent, right? "He was having a panic attack and I thought– hey! I remember this one thing that I read that said holding your breath could stop a panic attack! And I, I don't know, I guess I just thought the best way to do that was to put my lips on his. . ." Okay, it wasn't sounding so innocent after all. Who gets someone to hold their breath by _kissing_ them? She could have just as easily plugged his nose and covered his mouth with her hand for a second or two. So why–

Lydia stopped thinking when she heard Allison chuckle. "_What_?" she asked, exasperated. Her friend smiled widely at her.

"You like him."

The banshee's eyes grew. What was her friend saying? "Don't be crazy!" she tried to convince her. But her friend only rolled her eyes.

"Lydia, you could've just plugged his nose and put your hand over his mouth. But instead, you kissed him. Why do you think that is? Be honest."

Damn that girl for knowing her mind just as well as she did. So she actually started thinking about it. Did she, Lydia Martin, actually have feelings for Stiles Stilinski? The boy who had a crush on her since the third grade? The boy who took her to Grade 10 formal, the only boy who ever really gave a damn about her . . .?

"Fine!" She sighed in an exaggerated way, throwing her arms up and sitting in the chair matched with the desk Allison was leaning on. "But I don't know _what_ to feel, okay? It's like whenever I'm around him, I just. . . I don't know how to describe it, I just. . . Feel good."

The brunette smiled at her friend. "I know what you're feeling. It's the same feeling I have for Scott. When I'm around him I feel like I'm on a cloud, like nothing can hurt me."

And that's how she felt. Protected. Invincible. Because some part of her knew that Stiles would do _anything_ to keep her from harm.

_"__And if you die? I will literally go out of my freakin' mind."_

She was going to tell Allison that, that she was right, that that's exactly how she feels right now– when a red light went off in her head. "Wait a second, Allison, you and Scott aren't together anymore." The hunter's mouth opened and her face told Lydia that she was going to explain everything to her, probably how she still loved Scott regardless of them being together. But she couldn't hear her because at that moment, she had chosen to look to the back of the classroom. And sitting on the floor, propped against the wall was Stiles, with a look of hatred she had only seen once before on him. When she was by his side, his arm around her as they backed away from the Nogitsune charging at them.

Lydia got out of the chair, not able to hear any of Allison's protests. The world had gone mute. The only thing she could hear was the boy's breathing, and her footsteps. She walked toward the back of the room, and Stiles's eyes fixated on her, that look . . . that look of determination and anger written all over his face.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked in a steady voice. Lydia's eyes narrowed, and her mouth gapped open slightly. This had to be some kind of banshee hallucination. This couldn't be real.

"Stiles–"

"Scott's not going to let you leave." His words dripped with malice and the strength of a man whose time was running out. Lydia didn't understand. Leave where? The school? Why would she be leaving? But before the strawberry-blonde could speak another word, Stiles's eyes trailed down to her side. Lydia looked down at her hand, which now occupied a metal baseball bat.

"Lydia!"

She whipped around to face Allison, her friend's eyebrows raised slightly. She looked worried. Lydia stared back down at her hand but the baseball bat was gone. She was starting to think her friend had a reason to be worried. When the banshee looked back at the wall, Stiles was gone, too. Lydia blinked a couple of times, then turned back to Allison.

"Are you okay?" she asked her friend, walking over to her. She tugged at her hand lightly, pulling her to the door. "C'mon, let's get to class, alright? Maybe Bio will clear your head."

* * *

Lydia walked down the hall with all of her friends– Stiles by her side and Scott next to him with his arm around Allison. For a few moments, the world seemed like a perfect fantasy. Like a dream. Unfortunately, Lydia should've known from past experience how fast dreams can turn into nightmares.

They were only ten or so short steps from the end of the hallway, when something caught in the corner of her eye. Lydia looked to the side of the hall, to the lockers, where Kira was sitting. Her wrist was cuffed to one of the lockers, and it looked to her that the handcuff was biting into her skin. Her head was bleeding slightly, like she had been hit by something. She looked scared. So, so scared.

Lydia stopped walking, staring at the sight of Kira, who was now staring back at her with frightened eyes. And then the kitsune released a blood-curdling scream. The banshee covered her ears and fell to her knees, trying to block out the sound. It hurt her, something was happening, something was _hurting_ her– No, that's not right. Something was hurting _Kira_.

"Lydia?"

When she opened her eyes, she was standing in the hallway with Allison again. She was leaning against some lockers, watching as Stiles and Scott made their way into the school. They waved at the two girls as they passed by them on the way to their class.

"I want one," Lydia heard herself say, staring after Stiles as he walked down the hall. Allison laughed.

"Yeah, well one of those boys is mine, so you'll just have to stick with the other one."

"Trust me, I couldn't be more okay with that."

But Lydia was confused with the words coming out of her mouth. She remembered herself saying that, leaning against the lockers, watching two boys come into the school. But that wasn't Stiles and Scott. That was Ethan and Aidan. Something was wrong. She just couldn't place it quite yet.

"You're still coming to the dance, right?" Allison interrupted her thoughts. "I mean, I don't want to go alone since Scott can't go. Y'know, because he has detention and Coach is making him pick lacrosse. You should _totally_ go with Stiles. I see you eying him lately, and I already know he _really_ likes _you_–"

It was what Allison said that shot up more red lights. The dance. Scott not being able to go because of Coach. Her going with Stiles.

"I thought you weren't together with Scott anymore?" Lydia heard herself ask. "Because of the thing that happened that night at the school?" What was she saying? But Allison just shook her head.

"No, we're still together."

"Huh."

Lydia was starting to second-guess herself. _Of course_ Allison and Scott were still together. He would always love her, and she would always love him. What could possibly keep them apart?

And then Lydia's heart squeezed painfully. She suddenly knew what was wrong. She knew why Scott and Allison weren't together anymore. She couldn't see it before, maybe because she didn't want to. But now she remembered, and now she knew that she couldn't just let it slide like seeing Stiles and Kira. This wasn't a hallucination this time.

"Allison. . ." Lydia started, her throat starting to swell with the tears threatening to flow.

"Yeah?"

Her lip trembled slightly. "You're dead."

The brunette closed her locker. She sighed, and didn't look at Lydia for a long, long time. Then, after a few moments, she finally did. The smile she gave her friend was a sad, painful one.

"I know."

Suddenly, there was a bright light, brighter than anything Lydia had ever seen before. It blocked out Allison, it blocked out everything, and then there was this pain. It shot up her spine, and she could feel it in her limps, in her hands, in her feet, in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, wanting it to be over, wanting the horrible feeling in her gut to go away. But when the pain faded away, it was replaced with a feeling of nothingness. Untethered. Unanchored. Lost.

And above everything else, _cold_. When Lydia opened her eyes, she was lying on a cold, hard surface. She was aware of the breeze that coated her naked body. She felt her matted hair at her shoulders, tangled with twigs and leaves and dirt. She tried to cover herself, tried to get warm, but she couldn't. She could only feel the cold, only wish that someone would find her soon.

Someone's feet walked into her line of vision, and crouched down next to her. It was Stiles, only it wasn't. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, and his hair was tousled and tangled. He smiled maliciously at her. The terrible feeling inside her got worse with his presence.

"Hi Lydia," he spoke. He didn't sound like Stiles. His voice wasn't filled with worry, like she knew her Stiles's would be. He wasn't trying to help her, wasn't trying to protect her. He wasn't calling his dad for help, or giving her his jacket. No, he just stared at her with the same devious smile, and making the bad feeling grow and grow.

The Nogitsune traced his fingers down the length of her body lightly. Lydia gritted her teeth, her body shivering at the touch. He chuckled. "I'm afraid _I'm_ in control now," he told her. "And you're going to stay here. Maybe you'll freeze to death. Although, this _is_ all just in your head, so. . ." He laughed. "Wait a minute, this isn't even _your_ head anymore. It's _mine_." He stood up, his eyes racking over her body. The wind howled and a gust of air blew by, causing Lydia to shiver violently and let out a small cry. The Nogitsune smiled again, her form shifting into the body of the same strawberry-blonde on the ground, only clean and dressed.

"Goodbye, Lydia."


	5. The Parent Trap

"KIRA!" Scott's voice shouted helplessly into the darkness as he and Stiles raced into the electrical plant. The alpha's eyes flashed red, his extra werewolf senses now allowing him to see in the dark. He searched for Kira, for her kitsune form, for the fox that he . . . loved? Or was that too soon? With all the things they've been together. . . The Nogitsune, the Deadpool, the Nogitsune. . .

"KIRA!" he shouted again, his voice becoming more desperate by the second. Next to him, his human friend, his friend who couldn't _see_ in this darkness, was shouting just as whole-heartedly.

"LYDIA!" Stiles's voice sounded raw and broken. It seemed like it was finally daunting on him, the whole thing. His head was less fuzzy now, it wasn't clouded with sleep or pounding from a metal baseball bat. He started to get it now. "LYDIA!"

The voice that answered made his heart skip a beat, but it wasn't the voice he craved to hear so badly right now. Stiles couldn't make out anything without the lights, but he could hear Scott's footsteps running toward the voice. Toward _Kira's_ voice.

"Kira?" His friend's voice was calmer now, now that he knew that his girlfriend was alive.

"Scott!" Her voice was unbelievably filled with relief, and pain. As Stiles tried to follow the voices, he could hear chains rattling, like handcuffs, or a chain-link fence.

Scott could see Kira's fox form now, glowing around her like it was protecting her. He kneeled next to her and cupped the side of her face with his hand. She jumped slightly, her eyes unfocused as she couldn't see anything either. Her boyfriend carefully broke open the handcuffs and tossed them aside. He stroked Kira's wrist softly, as if he was trying to heal the small break in her skin from struggling.

"Where's Lydia?" The kitsune could hear Stiles's voice from the dark. She wanted to tell him that she was fine, that she was probably off on one of her banshee missions or something, anything but telling him that the Nogitsune was back. Scott sensed her hesitation, and answered for her.

"We know," he said, in a small voice. "About the Nogitsune being back. We also know that she possessed Lydia." He paused before saying the next thing, the thing nobody wanted to say. "She's not here, is she?"

"No," Kira said quietly, standing up as Scott steadied her. She felt dizzy. But not like the world was spinning, or her head felt like it was going to explode. Like she was walking on air. Like she was the most powerful person in the whole world. "Lydia–" she sucked in a quick breath at her slip-up, "I mean, the Nogitsune, 'she' I guess? She pulled the same thing as last time." Kira stumbled blindly around until she found the fuse box. She sent a silent 'I-hope-this-works' prayer before pressing her hand to it. The building lit up instantly, and Kira could feel the light-headedness draining from her body. When the lights turned back on, the two boys squinted. Scott threw his hand over his eyes, waiting for them to dim back to brown before putting his arm down.

"Wow," he commented. "When did you learn to do that?"

Kira smiled proudly, but Stiles interrupted her before she could thank her boyfriend for his praise.

"I think we should be focusing on something else right now. Look." Stiles went over to her, looking at the fuse box. Or, rather, what was attached to the fuse box. A metal baseball bat.

* * *

"Are you sure you're okay?" Scott asked Kira for the thousandth time as they drove to her house.

"_Yes_," she repeated. She wanted to smile at him, to reassure him, but she couldn't, not now, not with everything going on. Her boyfriend parked the car close to her house, but not close enough that her parents would hear them pulling up. Stiles got out first, nervously wringing his hands as he watched the other two get out of the car.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Well," Kira began, "We have to tell my mom what's going on. I'm sure she can help–"

"But there's no more Oni," Scott said in a strained voice, like he was trying not to point out the obvious. Stiles nodded, agreeing silently.

"She can still help! Who knows more about the Nogitsune then my mom?" Kira asked. "This is our only choice."

"NO!" Stiles said suddenly, voicing his opinion in a slightly surprising, violent way. Kira and Scott turned to him, their eyes narrowed with worry. He lowered his voice, eyes trailing to the ground as an apology for his outburst. "If your mom finds out about the Nogitsune being back. . ." He shook his head. "She's going to kill Lydia. You know she will."

Kira gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sure she has other ideas about–" But Stiles interrupted her again before she could finish.

"Have you two forgotten how she wanted to kill _me_? She would've done _anything_ to get rid of the Nogitsune, including killing her daughter's boyfriend's best friend." He breathed a shaky breath. "We had a plan last time: Change the Nogitsune. But there's no changing Lydia! She's already been bitten, she's already something. And if we tell your mom she _will_ go after Lydia, no hesitations this time. Not when this is going to be the third time she's dealt with it. No, I won't let that happen. I _won't_ let her take Lydia's life just to drive away the Nogitsune again."

Scott gave his girlfriend a side-look, and she nodded hesitantly, with a sad expression on her face. Then he slowly stepped toward Stiles, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Alright, we won't tell her. Not yet, anyway." Stiles opened his mouth to protest the last part, but shut it closed when he decided that that was the best he was going to get right now.

"I better get inside," Kira whispered. "The sun is already coming up." She gave Scott a kiss on the cheek, and both of them a small smile before walking up to her house and disappearing inside. She tried to be as quiet as she could, closing the door with a _click_, and going to the window to see Scott and Stiles leaving. She sighed slowly, the night's events finally over, but the problem just beginning.

"Kira?"

The kitsune whipped around to face her mother, who was standing in her pajamas, eyes squinted with sleep. "What are you doing?"

"I was just, um, checking the door? To make sure, uh, that it was locked. Yeah."

"Were you out with Scott?"

Kira was about to defend herself –she already had a whole lie planned out– when she realized there wasn't an accusing tone in her mother's voice. She didn't sound disappointed, or angry. For the most part, she sounded _amused_. Glad even.

"Yeah, Mom. Sorry, we lost track of time watching a movie, and we both fell asleep–"

"It's alright, Kira," she told her with a smile. "I'm just glad you're finally finding some normalcy in your life. I mean, after everything that happened with the Nogitsune, it's nice to know you two connect outside the dangers and evil of ancient spirits."

Kira's stomach twisted up into knots, but she managed to answer in a sincere-sounding voice. "Thanks, mom. I'm just going to, um, go back to bed."

"Alright."

Her daughter headed to her room, trying not to move so fast. Then she laid down on her bed, closing her eyes, waiting for sleep that would never come.

* * *

Scott told Stiles to get some rest, to wait a few hours before talking to his dad. But all he could do was stare up at his ceiling, around his room, all over the red strings that were pinned to the walls. Scott told him to wait until at least 10:00 am, so his dad would be at work for a little while before he could barge in running on and on about Lydia and the Nogitsune. But the hours passed by slowly, agonizingly slow. Lydia could be wandering around, scared, or the Nogitsune could be using her to do unspeakable things and he was –what? Lying in bed, trying to sleep when he couldn't? When the strawberry-blonde girl plagued his every thought?

_"__What do the different coloured strings mean?"_

_ "__Oh, just different stages of the investigation. So, green is solved; yellow is to be determined; blue's just . . . pretty."_

_ "__What does red mean?"_

_ "__Unsolved."_

_ "__You only have red on the board."_

_ "__Yes, I'm aware of that, thank you."_

Stiles smiled a bit at the memory –kneeling next to his bed, slowly unraveling the string from her fingers, reassuring her that he would've searched the school all night just to prove she was right. His heart clenched painfully, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get rid of all the thoughts and images of Lydia being hurt because of the Nogitsune. For a few minutes, he busied himself with the memory of riding home with Scott in the car, and the conversation they had had.

* * *

"There's no way I'm waiting _four hours_ to talk to my dad about this!" Stiles argued as Scott drove. "The _Nogitsune _is back. And it's possessing Lydia! This is not information that you just wait until a 'suitable time' to talk about it! Lydia could be hurt! Or worse– the Nogitsune could be making her do something. . . I don't even know, and I don't want to think about it."

"Stiles. . ." his friend began slowly, "I agree with what you're saying, but I'm also saying that this is big. Huge. This isn't something that you just spring onto someone when they're still half-asleep!"

Stiles drummed his fingers on the dashboard, pulling at his hair with his other hand. Then he reached into his pocket and brought out his phone, dialing and pressing it to his ear. "Yeah, Malia? No, no, I'm fine. Look, I need you to do something for me."

_"__Okay?"_

"You and Liam, find something of Lydia's that you can use to track her scent. And then, y'know, track it."

_"__Yeah, we can do that. Scott taught us that a few days ago. Actually, Derek taught me first, but that's not important. I'll come to your house and we'll look together–"_

"No," Stiles replied simply. "Scott and I have our own stuff to deal with. I have to tell my dad, Scott has to tell his mom. . ." He trailed off, watching his best friend's face slowly turn into a frown. "Just. . . Just please, try and find her. Please."

There was a pause on the other end. _"Okay."_

"Thanks, Malia." He hung up and put the phone down, the lump in his throat growing thicker with every minute. "We need to find her," he said aloud, to no one in particular. "We just need to find her. And soon."

For a second, Stiles thought he saw an amused look pass over Scott's face. His eyes narrowed. "What?"

Scott glanced over at his friend, deciding whether or not he should speak his thoughts. "It's just. . ." He shook his head, a small smile forming on his lips. "You sound like her."

"Like who?"

"Like Lydia."

Stiles blinked a couple of times, surprised. "What? Why?"

The alpha was quiet for a moment as he turned the car to go left, then resumed the conversation. "Lydia was like this, when you were missing. When it was _you _who was possessed. She wasn't _hysterical_, but she was worried to the point where she tried. She tried _so_ hard to find you when you went missing that one night. She searched your room, looking for anything that would trigger her banshee senses and find you. Did she ever tell you were she went? Where the –for lack of a better term– _voices_ told her to go?"

Stiles shook his head, silent.

"Eichen House," Scott answered. "You may not have been there, but you _thought_ you were. Your mind was so set on the fact that you were there, that you were trapped somehow in Eichen House, that Lydia's banshee senses connected with that and led her there. She led your dad there, too, and when you weren't there, well. . . I wasn't there, but your dad said she was pretty upset that she couldn't find you. That she was so _sure_ you were there, she didn't understand why you weren't."

"Lydia. . ." Stiles cleared his throat. "She was worried about me?"

Scott gave his best friend a look. "Of course. Did you really think that she wouldn't be?"

"To be honest, I didn't really know."

* * *

Stiles didn't end up sleeping a wink, and when the clock went from 9:59 to 10:00, it took him five minutes to change and head out. He raced to the police station, pushing the door open without an ounce of grace, arms flailing as he hurried inside. Sheriff Stilinski looked up as his son came in and over to his desk, one eyebrow raised as Stiles tried to catch his breath.

"Did you– Did you _run_ all the way here?" John Stilinski asked his son suspiciously.

"Yeah," Stiles said quickly, like he had more important matters to deal with. "I–"

"I think I'm going to regret asking this, but _why_ exactly?" his dad interrupted. The boy made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat.

"I misplaced the Jeep. Now, really, I'd like to–"

"You _misplaced_ the Jeep?"

"_Yes_. Look, that doesn't matter right now because–"

"Wait, Stiles." John put up his hand for him to stop for a second, looking at him more closely. "Have you been sleeping lately? How many hours did you get last night?"

Stiles shook his head several times, exasperated. "Can I just–? Can I just do what I came here to do?"

John sighed, then nodded. "Yeah, go ahead."

Stiles started to relax, finally being able to get out what was needed to be said. "I'd like to report a missing person."

John raised his eyebrows a bit, but took out a pad of paper and a pen anyway. "Alright, what's their name?"

"Lydia Martin."

He stopped, putting down the pen and paper and looking up slowly. "What?"

"It's Lydia, she's missing," Stiles repeated, his chest starting to tighten again. His father sighed (he did that a lot) and got out of his desk, pulling his son into the other room.

"Stiles, I know you worry about her, but I'm sure this is just another one of her psychic things again. This has happened before. And as long as she's not completely naked in 20 degree weather, lost, then I'm sure she'll turn back up in no time," John said in a steady voice. Stiles groaned.

"All right, first of all, stop talking to Parrish about Lydia because she's not _psychic_, she's a _banshee_. Completely different," he pointed out. "And secondly– this is _not_ a banshee thing, _trust me_." His eyes narrowed as he watched his dad pick up the phone. "What are you doing?"

John began dialing. "If Lydia really is missing, her mother deserves to know." He interrupted his son as he opened his mouth. "No matter if it's supernatural or not, a parent needs to know these things. Trust me, I know that."

Stiles gut churned with the guilt of being the reason his father sometimes worried so much. He stayed silent as John put the phone to his ear.

"Hello? Natalie? Yes, this is Sheriff Stilinski. I've called because I have reasons to think that Lydia might be missing. Yes. What? Oh, really? Well, my son seems to think otherwise. Yes, I know. Yes." He chuckled slightly, looking over at Stiles.

"What is she saying?" he half-mouthed. John handed him the phone, and he put it to his ear right away. "Ms Martin? Look, my dad called because I think Lydia–"

_"__Oh, there's no need to be worried, Stiles," _Ms Martin said nonchalantly. Stiles froze.

"Why . . . not?"

_"__Because Lydia is here, at home. She's actually just upstairs working on a project, hold on, LYDIA! It's Stiles, do you want to–"_

But Stiles didn't hear the rest of the conversation, because he hung up the phone instantly, slamming it back into its holder. He paced wildly, running his hands through his hair in a panicked fashion. But just before John could say a word about his behaviour, Scott came into the room. He looked from Stiles to the Sheriff, trying to take in their emotions. He could smell the anxiety coming off of Stiles in waves.

"Did you. . . Did you tell him?" he asked, looking at Sheriff Stilinski.

"Tell me what?" He looked at his son. "_Stiles_."

The boy in question bit down hard on his thumb, now only looking at his best friend. "It's Lydia," he said. "She's at home. With her mom."

Scott's eyes grew wide. "We need to get over there," he said as Stiles passed him and began to leave the room hurriedly.

"My idea exactly."

John chased the two boys out, his expression as confused as ever. "Wait! What's going on? What does this have to do with Lydia being missing? I thought you'd be glad she was home safe."

"Look, dad," Stiles began, "I'll explain everything when I get back. I promise." And he and Scott were out the door before the Sheriff could utter another word.

Stiles got into the car as Scott turned on the ignition and backed out onto the road. He began driving to Lydia's house, a bit faster than the speed limit allowed. Both the boys were yelling at each other.

"Do you think she's–?"

"This is bad, so bad–"

"What if it _is_ just her, that's a possibility, right–?"

"The things the Nogitsune could be up to right now–"

"You're right, there's no way it's Lydia, she'd contact us–"

But before they could come to any real conclusions, they were at Lydia's house. And parked in the driveway was a blue Jeep.

Stiles and Scott didn't waste any time in barging into the house, running around until they both came to the kitchen. The same kitchen where Lydia probably baked cookies with her dad. The same kitchen where Lydia probably made her first Paper Mache Volcano with her mom. The same kitchen where Lydia's first 'A+' probably hanged proudly on the fridge. The same kitchen where her mom made her dinner every night, maybe sometimes the other way around.

The same kitchen where Natalie Martin was tied to a chair, and Lydia had a knife pressed to her throat.


End file.
